Fairy Tale of My Heart
by Moliz
Summary: Based on: The Six Swans. When Kagome gets trapped in the curse laid by her evil stepmother, she takes comfort in the person who's least likely to offer it to her: Inuyasha. But when betrayal hits, Kagome feels herself falling deeper into death.
1. My Tale

A/N: Well, here comes another story. In the months when I seemed to be inactive, I've been working on two stories, figuring out the plots of everything. I'm glad to say I've got this planned from beginning to end, mainly because this is based on my favourite book: Daughter of the Forest. Don't start shouting at me bout copyrights when the beginning starts to get too famaliar, because I'm going to change the storyline and move it in a very different direction. Just a note for all you guys to keep in minf. Alrite, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me, based on Daughter of the Forest.

Chapter 1

My Tale

_For you,_

_I have endured much, these years. I have always liked to tell stories, telling and continuing the tales of time. The grandest, the ones told most, the ones most enjoyed, are always begged for, and I take pleasure in telling. Then there are some, little tales, forgotten tales, tales so worn with love and time and tears that it seems every telling strips part of it away… I like to think mine is like that._

_My tale, the tale of the unbearable cruelty and hurt I had to go through, is like that. I have not told any, except the one closest to me, and only once. I'm not selfish, but far from selfless. When I think of my tale, the one true thing that will forever make me remember and cry, I want to keep it inside me, so that it's all mine._

_But I understand the importance of passing things on, and as a teller of tales, it is only inevitable that I tell my story, so that it will be remembered as well. _

_When I was young, I surrounded myself in stories. They were my life. I couldn't live without them. They led me to believe, to trust and be happy. I think it's the one true gift mother gave me when she passed away. I hate to share this with everybody, but it is time, and it is time I let go._

_My daughter and son asked me for my tale before, but I never told. I didn't want to burden them, or make them think I was a hero, for I was not then and stillnot so now. The reason was that by telling, I would once more experience the grief and feelings I experienced before, and that's not something I would ever want to go through again._

_In retaliation, they asked their uncles and father; and males, being males, told my story. I wasn't mad, to be sure, for they had a big part in it too. I think after my children knew, they looked at my in a new light, and I'm not sure if I am even close to their expectations. _

_My husband, always supporting, told me to let go, but I wouldn't. We've had our disagreements and such, but I just can't. I want to keep it forever mine._

_In the end, family prevailed, but only after countless arguments and persuasion. Of course I didn't give up without a fight, so instead of telling, which would have definitely spurred an emotional breakdown, I decided I would write it. In this case, whoever would like to know my story can read through these pages without asking me. And, I would not have to repeat my tale to every individual who would like to know._

_Don't mind if my writing seems a little dusty. Digging up things that happened long ago and once sparked such feelings of sadness, remorse and grief is hard. Then, imagine having to channel all those feelings into simple words, words that are never enough to encompass the extent of their value, it bothers me that I cannot explain such things._

_When I tell stories, I don't just close my eyes and repeat the same things over and over with little emotion. I take the story and make it a part of me, so that, to see and to hear me is to make up for the lack of description in my words. Words on a piece of paper are not efficient in giving such emotion I hold. So, be patient, as I try and describe to you my tale, without the eyes and ears which would have made this tale so much truer._

_I would like you to know, whoever you are, that this tale is real and it happened to me in exactly the way I will describe it. I'm sorry if I cannot remember individual phrases and words, but I'll try my best, for some scenes flash over and over in my mind, and there is no way possibly forget them…even when I want to._

_Sometimes you may want to laugh at my stupidity, or to even hit me for my mistakes. But let me tell you, I am only human and I make mistakes, no matter what some may praise of me. _

_Also, before I start, I want you to respect. I want you to respect the things I tell you and imagine them happening to you before you mock or criticize me. I have not told my husband some details I shall list in here, for they are private things only a woman should know. However, I have promised to be truthful and not alter any part, even though I do wish to do so many times._

_And with these messages and warnings, I tell you to flip the page. In a last note, this is a tale, a tale spun from the threads of my life. I have sacrificed much for the completion of this tale, and I would regret it much if it were all for nothing. So, before everything else, I tell you to enjoy this tale. _

_Endless Love,_

_Kagome_

Well, we'll get to the story part in the next chapter... click next... but review first!


	2. Meeting Him

A/N: I forgot to mention this in the last chapter but this story is dedicated to Mo, Julie, Becky, and everyone else whom I've forgotten right now. Thanks for your support. Also, kudos goes out to Rozefire, who has inspired me to start an account on fanfiction in the first place. Merci. :P

Disclaimer: Inuyasha doesn't belong to me. This tale is based on The Six Swans. Yah, yah, a stupid fairy tale that everybody likes to use... but, I'll make this one special, trust me.

Start reading! and don't forget to review, 'cause it's your words that push me down on my butt and get me writing in the first place. :P

Chapter 2

Meeting Him

_My brothers were my light…in a life of darkness. They were the ones who truly raised me, not my parents. Mother, of course, was gone. And father…well…he was gone too, in a way. He went with my mother, the day that she left. If not his physical body, then his soul. _

_When I looked at my father back then, I would never thought he was the type to marry for love, much less marry someone so pure and innocent as mother. My brothers assured me, when they were only hardly bigger than me; it was obvious my father held my mother in love. I believed them, because they never lied to me.

* * *

_

Four children lay on the rocks at the water's edge. A dark-haired little girl. Three boys, slightly older. This image is caught forever in my memory, like some fragile creature preserved in amber. Myself, my brothers. I remember the way the water rippled as I trailed my fingers across the shining surface.

"Don't lean over so far, Kagome," said Kanji. "You might fall in." He was a year older than me and made the most of what little authority that gave him.

I ignored him, reaching down into the mysterious depths.

"She might fall in, mightn't she, Linku?"

A long silence. As it stretched out, we both looked at Linku, who lay on his back, full length on the warm rock. Not sleeping; his eyes reflected the open gray of the autumnal sky. His hair spread out on the rock in a wild black tangle. There was a hole in the sleeve of his jacket.

"The swans are coming," said Linku at last. He sat up slowly to rest his chin on raised knees. "They're coming tonight."

Behind him, a breeze stirred the branches of oak and elm, ash and elder, and scattered a drift of leaves, gold and bronze and brown. That lake lay in a circle of tree-clothed hills, sheltered as if in a great chalice.

If you are lucky enough to grow up the way I did, you have plenty of good things to remember. And some that are not so good. One spring, looking for the tiny green frogs that appeared as soon as the first warmth was in the air, my brothers and I splashed knee deep in the stream, making enough noise between us to frighten any creature away. My three brothers were there, Kanji whistling some old tune; Kohaki creeping up behind to slip a handful of bog weed down his neck. The two of them rolling on the bank, wrestling and laughing. And Linku. Linku was further up the stream, quiet by a rock pool. He would not turn stones to seek frogs; waiting, he would charm them out by his silence.

I had a fistful of wildflowers, violets, meadowsweet, and the little pink ones we called cuckoo flowers. Down near the water's edge was a new one with pretty star-shaped blooms of a delicate pale green, and leaves like gray feathers. I clambered nearer and reached out to pick one.

"Kagome! Don't touch that!" Linku snapped.

Startled, I looked up. Linku never gave me orders. If it had been Kohaki, now, who was the eldest, I might have expected it. Linku was hurrying back to me, frogs abandoned. But why should I take notice of him? He wasn't so very much older, and it was only a flower. I heard him saying, "Kagome, don't –" as my small fingers plucked one of the soft-looking stems.

The pain in my hand was like fire- a white hot agony that made me screw up my face and howl as I blundered along the path, my flowers dropped heedless underfoot. Linku stopped me none too gently, his hands on my shoulders arresting my wild progress.

"Starwort," he said, taking a good look at my hand, which was swelling and turning an alarming shade of red. By this time my shrieks had brought the other two running. Kohaki held onto me, since he was strong, and I was bawling and thrashing about with the pain. Kanji tore off a strip from his grubby shirt. Linku had found a pair of pointed twigs, and he began to pull out, delicately, one by one, the tiny needlelike spines the starwort plant had embedded in my soft flesh. I remember the pressure of Kohaki's hands on my arms as I gulped for air between sobs, and I can still hear Kanji talking, talking in a quiet voice as Linku's long deft fingers went steadily about their task.

When it was done, they bound up my hand with Kanji's makeshift bandage and some crushed marigold petals, and by morning it was better. They never whispered a word about it to my father, about what I foolish girl I'd been.

From then on I knew what starwort was, and I began to teach myself about other plants that could hurt or heal. A child that grows up half-wild in the forest learns the secrets that grow there simply through common sense. Throughout the endless reaches of the forest, great oak, strong ash, and gentle birch sheltered a myriad of growing things. I learned where to find them, when to cut them, how to use them in slave, ointment, or infusion. But I was not content with that. I spoke with the old women of the cottages until they tired of me, and I studied what manuscripts I could find, and tried things out for myself. There was always more to learn; and there was no shortage of work to be done.

When was the beginning? When my father met my mother, and lost his heart, and chose to wed for love? Or was it when I was born? After she gave birth to me, my mother died.

It could not be said that my father gave way to his grief. He was too strong for that, but when he lost her, some light in him went out. It was all councils and power games, and dealing behind closed doors. That was all he saw, and all he cared about. So my brothers grew up running wild in the forest, taking care of me and raising me as well as a bunch of boys could.

My father was the Lord of the Mystic Forest, and considering it covered 90 of our island, you could say he was king. His authority was absolute. Within the ring of our boundaries, his borders were as close to secure as any man's might be in these troubled times. To those who did not respect it, who did not understand it, the forest was impenetrable. A man, or a troop of men, who did not know the way would become hopelessly lost there, prey to sudden mists, the branching, deceptive paths, and to other, older things, a Youkai would not hope to understand. The forest protected us. Our lands were safe from marauders. They held Mystic Forest in fear, and gave us a wide berth.

Our father had little time for us, we were in war. Our war was with the Youkai. In particular it was with one family of Youkais, known as the White Backs. I did not concern myself with it greatly. I was a girl, after all, and anyway I had better things to do with my time. I had never seen a Youkai. They were less real to me than creatures from an old tale, dragons, or giants.

You could say my life was perfect, apart from father, that is, until she came.

I guess my real story starts with, let's say, the night Inuyasha came.

It was a night of festivities. It was close to midsummer and everybody was in a good mood. Kohaki was to be married off to our neighbor, whose land accounted for almost the whole other 10 of our island, for strategic purposes. Father and Nysoke, the other leader, had been talking about it for months. The good thing was Kohaki and his sweetheart Myou were wrapped up in each other long before that and the marriage was based on not only the war, but also love.

The night wore on; mead and ale flowed, platters of food came and went. There was music and dancing- the musicians had come from Nysoke's household, and made up in vigor what they lacked in subtlety. Such was the noise of stamping feet, of whistling and cheering, that it was some minutes before the commotion at the great door, the clash of metal and the shouting came to the notice of our guests. Slowly, the sound of revelry died down, and the crowd parted to admit a small band of my father's men, still in their field armor and carrying naked swords. They came up to my father's chair, and between them they dragged a captive whose face I could not see, but whose hair, gripped from behind by a mailed fist, caught the torch-light and shone like ripples of bright silver.

"My Lord!" the captain boomed out. "I regret this disturbance to your festivities."

"Indeed," responded my father in his iciest tones. "Your business must be pressing indeed, to warrant such an intrusion. What is your purpose? I have guests here." He was displeased at the interruption but he knew his men well; not for nothing would they risk his anger in such a way.

"A captive, my Lord, as you see. We found him on the northern rim of the lake, alone; but there must surely be more of his kind close by. Killed ten of my men while he was at it. This is no hired man."

There was a violent movement, and the soldier's voice was cut short as his prisoner jerked at the restraints that held him. They were resilient to the incredible strength of Youkai. People jostled for a better look, but all I could see through the press of bodies was the bright furnished silver of his hair, and the fist of the man that gripped it, and the way the prisoner held himself tall, as if he were the only person in the world that mattered.

I ducked under a few arms and pushed past a group of whispering girls, and clambered up onto the wide stone bench that skirted the great hall. The first thing I saw was Linku, perched in the identical spot on the other side. His look passed right over me and settled on the prisoner.

The captive's handsome face was badly bruised, his nose had been bleeding and his hair on closer inspection tangled with sweat and blood over his brow. Beneath the bangs of his long mane, his eyes burnt like fire as they fixed on my father. But what intrigued me the most was the two ears sitting atop of his head, flicking crazily here and there. He was young, and hurt, and desperate with hatred. He was the first Youkai I had ever seen.

"Who are you, and what is your purpose here?" demanded my father. "Speak now, for silence will bring you no good, that I promise. We have no welcome but death for your kind, for we know but one intention you can have in our lands. Who sent you here?"

The Youkai drew himself up, jerking contemptuously against the bewitched metal that held him at his captor's mercy. He spat with stunning accuracy at Father's feet. Instantly, one captor tightened the metal, twisting his arms harder, and the other used the full force of a gauntleted fist across the prisoner's face, leaving a red weal on mouth and cheek. Resentment and fury blazed from the young man's eyes, but he set his lips grimly and remained silent.

I watched with horror and stunning stupefaction. It seemed that in a matter of seconds his skin was mending itself up and the red weal was gone.

"So your type heals? Then you must be a White Back. Don't worry, there are many ways to make sure your skin doesn't patch up as perfectly as you'd wish it to." Father stood up. "This exhibition is no sight for ladies, and has no place in this hall of celebration," he said. "It is, perhaps, time to retire." He swept a dismissing glance around the hall, managing somehow to detangle the groups of people clustered for action.

The household, in an instant, snapped back into campaign mode. Servants appeared; flasks, goblets, and platters disappeared. People started to make a swift departure to their quarters, with my other two brothers included, and soon there were just father and a handful of his most trusted men. Somewhere in the midst of it all, the captive was dragged out, still silent in his blazing rage.

Linku and I headed out as well. My brother wordlessly latched onto my sleeve and pulled me to a dark corner. He carefully checked that nobody was within earshot before speaking.

"I need you to help me," he whispered. "I didn't want to ask you, but I can't do this alone."

"Do what?" My interest was caught immediately, even though I hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about.

"We can't do much now," he said, "but we might get him away by morning, if you can give me what I need."

"What?" I said. "What do you mean?"

"Poison," said Linku.

"Explain." I could see he didn't want to; his face bore a stubborn expression. "Don't you trust me, Linku?"

"I do trust you, Kagome. It's not that. It's just that if you help me now, you'll be at risk, and besides, it's…" He was twisting the end of his hair with his fingers again.

"What sort of poison?" I asked.

"Not to kill. A draft strong enough to send a man to sleep for the morning. Enough of it to doctor four men; and tasting fair, so they'll not realize. I need it before sunrise, Kagome. They take their breakfast early, and the guard changes before mid-morning. It's little enough time. You know how to make such a potion?"

In the dark, I nodded. "It's for him, that Youkai, isn't it?"

"You saw him," said Linku, "Just around the same age as you. Old enough to die for a cause but not old enough to deal with the torture that comes with it."

"But he's a Youkai! Don't they have the strength of a hundred men and live through anything?"

"His body might live through it but his mind won't. They're good at their job, our father's men. They know how to make a Youkai talk. For goodness sake, Youkais' got hearts and minds too!" Linku was good at persuasion.

In the end, I agreed. Even though this was against everything I was taught, I trusted my brother. But more than likely, I just couldn't get the Youkai's eyes out of my mind. They were so ferocious, yet so beautiful.

I guess my story can't be told without mentioning Kaede. Apart from me, she was the only other healer in our castle. She helped me identify all the plants that were unknown to me at first and then assisted me as I went onto higher levels of healing. Kaede was also the keeper of knowledge. When my brothers and I were young, we'd often listen to her talk of tales that were both true and false. She taught us how to read and write; something so very rare that only a few people knew how. She was like the grandma we never had.

In the days following the escape of the Youkai, my father was extremely busy. He employed many soldiers to search and capture the Youkai, offering generous amounts of gold for his recapture. After a while, however, without any fresh news about his escaped prisoner, he went back to his planning and war preparations.

Before long, my father was off to a foreign land again. He was always off making deals with other Lords and trying some new attack against the Youkai. By going off, he left Kohaki in charge of our castle grounds. Kaede decided to visit me then.

"I need you help, Kagome," said Kaede, once she'd found me roaming about the forest again.

"Anything you ask, Kaede. An infusion? Or perhaps a decoction?"

"I wish it were so simple," she said. "Brews and potions I have tried, some with good effect. I have employed many elements you have taught me yourself, and some of my own. I have prayed, and talked, and counseled. I can do no more, and he is slipping away from me."

I did not ask who her patient was, I already knew.

"I'll help, of course. But I don't know if I'll be much use. My skills are mainly with medicines. You make it sound as if something more is needed?"

"You will see for yourself. Come with me to where he is resting."

"I have to consult with Kohaki first. Will he allow me to go for a prolonged period of time?" I was a bit nervous. I still could not shake away my fright of Youkai.

"I've already consulted with your brother. You have no need to worry. In fact, he encourages you to go." Kaede was the type to have everything ready.

"He knows about it? Including the patient?" I didn't think my brother was that well informed.

"You'd be surprised at what Kohaki knows." Kaede smiled. Pack up your things girl. I'll be waiting.

It wasn't long before I was holding the reins to my light brown mare, trotting easily next to Kaede.

"You know who this boy is, I take it?" said Kaede casually, never taking her eyes off the track ahead.

"I know _what_ he is but not _who_ is," I corrected cautiously. "I have an idea of what happened to him. What I don't know is what I'm supposed to do for him. You'd better tell me before we get there, if I'm to be of some use."

She glanced at me sideways, apparently amused.

"Fair enough. The boy has some injuries, Serious injuries. He'd likely have died, if your brother hadn't gotten him away."

"With a bit of help from me," I said, somewhat miffed that my part in the rescue was forgotten already.

"Yes, I heard about that," said Kaede. "The problem with him right now is that this patient has been dosed, and anointed, and prayed over. He was- he had a number of hurts, and these I have attended to as well as I could. Although he'll heal up perfectly, he'll never be quite the way he was. His mind is what they messed with."

"You mean- he went crazy because of what they did to him?"

Kaede sighed. "No, not crazy. This one's made of strong fabric. He resisted his tormentors all through that long night, and I don't doubt that not one word escaped his lips. He's been very sick. He had a raging fever, and some of his injuries might have killed a weaker man outright. He fought death hard, even for a Youkai, and for a while I thought he had won. But his next battle is the hardest; it's against himself. He is, after all, not much older than you. The lad will not admit that he is hurt and frightened; instead, he turns his anguish and torments himself.

I tried to get my mind around this.

"You mean he wants to die?"

"I don't think he knows what he wants. What he needs is peace of mind, a space of time without hate, to put body and spirit together again."

There was quiet for a time, save for the gentle thudding of hooves and a sigh of wind among the rocks. We were getting closer now. The track grew narrow and steep, and the trees closed in. The horses ambled steadily on. We turned under a rock wall and we drew our horses to an abrupt halt.

"Here we are," Kaede said. "I hope, while you are here, that we can talk about a number of things. But let us tend to the boy, first of all. And you then decide for yourself what you can do, and what you cannot."

The air inside the cave was heavy with the smell of curative herbs. My nose told me Kaede had been burning a mixture to keep the Youkai longer in the peace of an oblivious sleep. I saw him there, huddled in a corner.

"The burns are healing well," said Kaede softly. "He had some internal injuries; with those I did what I could. They'll mend well enough in time. The fever was bad, but I brought it down with sponging and white oak infusions. At the height of it, he spoke much, and revealed more of himself than he would have perhaps wished. But he understands where he is now, and keeps his mouth shut most of the time, even when I speak to him. He does not take kindly to my prayers, or to my good advice. And twice I've stopped him from seeking some instrument to destroy himself, or me. He is still very weak, but not so weak that he could not do some harm, given the opportunity. And remember, Kagome, if this Youkai turns rogue, place the metal over him. That'll stop him. I don't want to see you getting hurt, over anything." She stifled a huge yawn.

I scrutinized Kaede's face, now pallid with tiredness. "Kaede, go to sleep. He won't wake for a while yet," I said, glancing at the cocooned figure. "Let me sit here with him, and you go get some sleep."

Kaede smiled ruefully, for indeed she was near dropping from exhaustion. "Very well," she said, "but make sure you call me immediately the moment he wakes."

She'd said I would know what to do, when I saw the Youkai. Well, there he was, and a sorry sight to be sure, curled up like a chastised dog, sleeping the dead of sleep of one punished almost beyond endurance. He lids were heavy, and there wasn't a spring left in that white hair. His two little ears were a bit bloody, slowly healing from a wound he must of gotten quite recently. I tried to imagine him waking; maybe staring at me with the vacant eyes of an idiot, or the mad ones of a wild creature. But all that came into my mind was one of the old stories, and the picture of the hero, Culhan the Venturer. They both had golden eyes.

I leaned my back against the rock wall and rehearsed his tale quietly to myself. This was a story often told, one of those tales which have a tendency to grow and change from one telling to another.

As I murmured, I kept my eyes trained on him, wondering when he'll wake. It was when I reached the climax of my story that I noticed his body stiffening, and found out that he was awake, all this time, listening to me.

I crawled slowly towards him, watching his face intently for any sign of change. It was when I was right next to him and reaching my hand out to brush away some hair from his face when his hand suddenly struck out, grasping my wrist.

I squirmed, trying to untangle my wrist from his deadly looking claws. I was the type to get hurt easily, and his unrelenting grasp was already starting to bruise my arm.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" the boy whispered, eyes still closed.

"I'm a healer, I've come to heal you, please let me go."

"No human has enough kindness in their veins to want to help a Youkai, tell me your true purpose." This time his eyes opened, and he fastened them on me.

I sharply drew in my breath, aware that his eyes were the colour of sun shining through honey, and that they were absolutely gorgeous.

"I swear, on my mother's grave, that I've come to help you, not for any other purpose."

Even though he had no idea who my mother was and whether or not she was dead, he knew that what I said was true, for he saw the seriousness of what it meant to me. His death grip on my wrist slackened, and I let out my breath in relief.

"I want to know why you humans would go so far in torturing a Youkai and then suddenly send a little young girl to heal him. Don't they know what his claws can do? That even with his injuries, he can heal by himself and seek his revenge upon them by killing the girl? What is the purpose of this paradoxical behaviour? Is it to play with his mind some more?"

"People don't know that I'm here. I'm sorry for the havoc my people have brought upon you, and I'm here to help."

"Help, ha! Like a little wench like you can do much good for me. The best you can do is get my robe back for me and send me packing back to my own country. That ugly old lady out there won't hear of my leaving, only intoxicate me with her herbs and medicine, saying it'll do me much good." He scoffed "Like hell it will."

He eyed me up and down, and said "You're related to the King of this place, right? You two look alike. So, you must be a princess. Now, seeing that I've got my hands on a princess, I can use you as a ransom, and get myself out of this stinking hellhole."

He suddenly sat up and grabbed hold of my arm, twisting me back and pinning me against his chest. His claw found the soft tissue below my chin, and he slowly drew his claw against my skin, slicing deep enough to draw blood, and to draw a scream from my throat.

Kaede came running with a bow, locked with a spirit arrow, pointed straight at him.

"Let her go," she hissed at him.

"Why would I want to do that? My life isn't worth anything to anyone and if I die, she dies too. That's a pretty good deal, don't you think?" The boy had a slight smirk on his face, teasing, almost tempting Kaede to lose the arrow.

"Let her go," she repeated. "She hasn't done you anything wrong; in fact, she's trying to help you."

"How do I know she's not a spy, trying to get information out of me? Since violence didn't work, why not use a little whore to sell me the secrets of her body, for the price of my tongue?"

Hearing this, I shifted against him in protest, trying to break my arms free of their bond. His grip only tightened, and I could feel the knife underneath my chin dig deeper.

I was panicking, afraid of the deadly Youkai holding my hostage and even more afraid to die. I told myself to calm down, to assess the situation and try to solve the problem. My healer's perspective kicked in.

I thought, if I was him, I'd be extremely afraid too. Captured in an enemy's land, tortured beyond belief and then when he'd been left to die peacefully, taken out of his trance to be healed by a strange old woman, whose purposes are unknown. He must be confused, to have been beaten nearly senseless and then tried to be healed.

After considering this, I understood the desperateness of his mind to grasp on to anything that made sense, anything that explained to him what was happening.

I relaxed in his grip, telling him through my body language that I wasn't going to try to escape or to fight him. I slacked against him, pressing my back into his chest. He jerked me away from him and said roughly "What are you trying on me, wench? Let me tell you, your body won't make me tell you anything."

Even though I was considerably insulted at this, I kept my head cool.

I told Kaede, who was still pointing the arrow at him and wondering what to do, to take away her weapon. The best way to keep peace was to take away anything sharp and blunt. Kaede looked unsure at this.

"Put your bow down, Kaede, it's not helping anyone." I said, unsure about that fact myself.

After she did, I turned my head slightly towards the boy, who seemed troubled by the peace offering.

"Look, we're two human women, one young and one old, without any weapons. We can't do anything against you. Also, who are you going to ransom me to? There's nobody around here except us, so you can put that knife away and let me go now."

He seemed to register the situation just as I told him and let me lose, pushing me away. I quickly ran towards Kaede, who hugged me tightly and tried to usher me out of the cave. I stayed where I was.

I wanted to help that strange boy, even though he seemed tempted to kill me at any moment.

"I'm going to stay," I told Kaede. "I can help him, I know it. Let me do this."

The boy, who heard me, laughed. "Like hell you can."

"No," Kaede said. "He tried to kill you, and put both of our lives in danger. In fact, we're still in danger-

"You're right about that, old woman" The boy said.

"Kagome, you have to go and just let me tend to him."

"No, I feel bad for the things our country has done to the Youkais. I want things to be better. Please let me."

A bitter laugh resounded from the other side of the cave. "Hahaha! You! You think you can make things better! In your dreams, you pathetic little princess! Old woman, let her heal me, see if she can. Let her see the things you country have done to me."

"Kaede, let me."

"Alright, but if he harms you in any way whatsoever, I'll let your brothers deal with him. He'll wish he was never born." With that, Kaede turned and left the cave.

I walked back towards the boy, careful not to be within reaching distance.

"Let's make a pact, alright? I'll heal you and tend to you, but you have to stay. Stay in my care until you're better."

"Why would I want to make a pact with you, wench? Humans never keep their promises." He spat at my feet and I had an urge to slap him across the face, wounded or not.

"Please, just say yes. And when you're healed, I'll make sure you have safe passage back to your home. I'll do everything it takes." My eyes pleaded with him.

Seeing my sincerity, he nodded stiffly. "But it'll have to be you, that is, who heals me. I want you to see the horrors your own father and brothers and people did to me."

I nodded and stuck out my hand. His clawed hand slid into mine, unbearably cold. We shook, once.

Throughout the afternoon, I stayed outside to prepare the hot water and sponged towels needed to see to his wounds. From what I knew of my kingdom's torture of Youkais, especially White Backs, I gathered that they lashed him. To ensure that the wounds don't heal properly, they dip the leash in a particular poison that activates when it meets the blood. It usually brings the victim a lot of pain and over time, the poison would rot the flesh from inside out. At the same time, I cleaned up the tiny wound under my chin, always mindful and telling myself to be careful of the Youkai.

When everything was ready, I entered the cave with Kaede, bearing all out materials. After setting everything out, Kaede left us alone, giving the boy a harsh glance.

The boy, whose name I still didn't know at the time, was propped up against the cave wall, dressed in his undershirt.

I was aware of my modesty and his, but I had treated many patients before, though none so close in age, and was in a clear state of mind not to embarrass us or put any distance between us. He needed all the support he can get.

I looked at him. His eyes were fixed on me, looking me over to assess my skills as a healer. I tried to act confident.

"Alright, you can tell me your name." I told him, something I asked most of patients first when I tried to heal them.

"Why do you want to know? Is it because then you can go run home and tell that to your father?"

I was irritated by his state of mind. It was a name, and only a name, nothing more. It helped me to talk to him.

"Well, mine's Kagome."

I brought a bowl of hot water and a towel over to him and set it next to him, wondering how to tell him to take off his shirt.

"Inuyasha."

That surprised me pleasantly. It was a step away from ripping out my throat.

"Well, Inuyasha, I'll have to take a look at your wounds. Can you take off your shirt?"

It seemed my words made him aware of what was necessary for my treatment and he was modest enough to blush slightly, looking away from me.

He quickly stripped away his shirt, revealing great big gashes still slightly oozing blood. There was a strange smell, a smell of poison. I kept my head down and sponged him, taking care to spread some of my special cream over the gashes. He flinched every time my fingers touched him and it occurred to me it must have taken him a lot to not scream at the pain.

As I washed his wounds on his back, I started to talk quietly to him, telling him stories I'd heard as I was growing up.

All through the night, I washed him, letting himself do some parts. I cried too, unaware of my tears welling up at the sight before me. Some of my tears fell into his wounds and he tried not to flinch when the saltiness soaked his flesh.

It was an experience like I never felt before. I was scared, scared of him hurting me. I was reassured, because it was as if he radiated protection, the way he watched me intently. I was fascinated, by his well toned muscles that contracted and moved when I touched him, by his hair, the way his soft white hair fell in waves on his chest and by his reserved manner, as if he respected me, in some way.

After washing, I wrapped his wounds in some soft cloth dipped in a healing lotion, a type that worked on poison. I knew it was not enough to cure the poison, but it would help greatly.

At last, I was done. It was as if we shared a language through the night, a connection between healer and patient. With the break of dawn, the connection was broken, and we both returned to our normal selves, both aware of the magic that occurred at night. I had no idea what it was or it might be, but it seemed I spoke to him through my fingers and he responded, in a quiet and wondering sort of way.

* * *

Alright! Tell me what you think. Too much fluff? Less things going on? Any ideas, comments or questions? Review! I read everything! 


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